Playlist
by anjelicajasmin
Summary: I made a list of songs that reminded me of my favorite couple and wrote a one-shot based on each one. Scattered through time and not completely canon.
1. Ex-Factor

_Is this just a silly game_  
_That forces you to act this way_  
_Forces you to scream my name_  
_Then pretend that you can't stay_  
_Tell me, who I have to be_  
_To get some reciprocity_  
_No one loves you more than me_  
_And no one ever will_

_-Lauryn Hill_

Fitz was perplexed. He'd never fully understood women and their sudden mood swings but even he knew that no one could do a full 180 like Olivia Pope. Just two nights ago she's been panting his name and raking her perfectly manicured nails down his back and now she was blatantly ignoring him after a half-assed "Good morning, Governor."

It was her usual song-and-dance; the way she would suddenly become informal with him anytime there was a big break in the election. Last night, he'd won the primary. Fitzgerald Grant III was the Republican presidential candidate.

All Fitz really wanted, though, was a moment alone with her. He wanted to truly celebrate his victory with the woman he loved, and who was the reason he had won to begin with. The day was hectic, both of them scrambling around the campaign headquarters, stiflingly close to each other but much too distant for Fitz's liking.

It wasn't until the very end of the day, when one of the volunteers announced dinner was being served in the next room and everyone filed out, that he had a chance to get her alone.

Olivia tried to escape unnoticed, but Fitz, mindful to her fears, called out, "Ms. Pope, a moment please." He could visibly see her shoulders tense at the sound of his voice pronouncing her name so harshly.

"Not so fun, is it?" he whispered, suddenly standing directly behind her. "Being treated like a stranger, by me of all people. Why are you treating me like this Livie?" Despite their proximity he kept his hands to himself, not wanting to scare her off.

She whirled around. "I'm sorry Governor. But you're officially a presidential candidate now. I... we've worked too hard and too long to screw this up now. We - this - us, it has to stop."

Fitz felt the familiar pang he always did when she tried to do this. But instead of his usual reaction of becoming increasingly despondent until, days later, she opened her arms to comfort him, he felt a rush of anger towards her.

"Olivia," he said roughly, startling her. She'd never heard him so use such a tone with her, and the fact that he'd used her full name worried her. He softened his voice but his eyes remained enraged. "Livie. Sweet baby. I love you. I know that what we have may not be ideal and it gets difficult at times but _I'm never going to stop loving you_. I _need_ you." He reached towards her slowly and, when she didn't stop him, caressed her cheek. She leaned into his soft touch, melting under his gaze which still burned with the intensity of his anger but had shifted into a longing that mirrored her own.

"I love you too," Olivia whispered, feeling herself get choked up at the sentimentality of the moment.

Fitz pulled her into a tight embrace, burying his face in her hair. "Then, please, stop scaring me like that."

* * *

**A/N: **This chapter is a lot shorter than the others but it felt like the best one to start with. I hand write all of my stories so I won't upload any new chapters unless there's a high demand (or really any demand at all, I just don't want to be writing to myself) because it's not fun typing them up for nothing. Thanks for reading and reviews are appreciated :)


	2. Lovesong

_Whenever I'm alone with you  
__You make me feel like I am home again  
__Whenever I'm alone with you  
__You make me feel like I am home again...  
__However far away, I will always love you  
__However long I stay, I will always love you  
__Whatever words I say, I will always love you_

_-Adele_

It had been a long time since they'd been this close to each other. Almost long enough for her to forget the cute way his jaw twitched and the smell of his shampoo and the transparency of his eyebrows. These were the types of things she couldn't glean through the television, when he was made up and poised and professional. She admired President Grant and his passion for bettering his country, but she felt a whole other set of feelings for Fitz. Despite his anger towards her the last time they had been together and her resolution to never see him again, Olivia knew that there would have to be some sort of tragedy to keep them apart forever.

Ironic, she thought bitterly, that it took a tragedy to bring them back together.

Even unconscious he made her heart leap. Every flutter of an eye or twitch of a finger; every time his breathing hitched she felt it in the pit of her stomach, a nauseating combination of hope and despair at the fragile state he was in. He was plugged up to a myriad of machines that beeped and pulsed, alternately controlling and recording his every breath, as his skin seemed to get paler and clammier with each passing moment.

She reached over and placed her hand on his, sliding her fingers in between his. She marveled, as she had that first night on the tour bus, at how perfect of a fit it was. Everything about each of them seemed to complete the other. Where her body swelled, his dipped, and vice versa, and where her personality was lacking, his was plentiful. He could complete her sentences and she could tell exactly how his day had progressed just by seeing his face. She wondered how she had ever considered leaving this man without so much as a backwards glance.

When he had been shot two weeks earlier, Olivia couldn't help feeling a bit guilty. She hadn't pulled the trigger that night but seeing his frail form on the crisp white sheets reminded her of how he had looked the night she told him they were really over. His eyes had flashed, briefly, a look of acute pain and then dulled to the emotionless eyes of a man who was dead inside. And now here he was, truly dying. Olivia also couldn't shake the feeling that the shooting had something to do with a certain Governor she had recently taken on as a client - then been screwed over by. With Reston acting as unstable as he was, Quinn's identity coming to light and the abrupt end to the trial and David poking around where he had no business, Olivia wasn't sure how much longer they could keep their dirty little secret. It was as if all the evidenced they had flushed away had backed up and was briskly rising back up all at once.

She'd lied and cheated and manipulated and had kept telling herself it was for the good of the country but all she had done was hurt Fitz over and over in the process. And now he was in a hospital bed because of her.

No matter how many times she had left him and told him to go away, she knew her feelings for him would never change. She was contrite that it took him getting shot for her to finally admit that to herself. She couldn't look into his eyes and tell him that: finally tell him that she absolutely wanted to be with him even if it meant throwing away all they had worked for, and forget Cyrus and Edison and the press and to hell with the opinion of the constituents. For the moment, though, she would have to be content to whisper to him at his bedside in the wee hours of the morning.

Just being by his side made some part of her feel at peace. He w a breathing, however shallowly, and the lock of hair that curled on his forehead was perfectly in place. He was alive and she liked to believe that he felt her presence - that maybe some part of him felt an electricity in the air when she was near and he knew she was still there for him, still in love with him.

"Do you remember our late night visits to the Rose Garden? You would always find some ridiculous new way to invite me out, like sending the confused interns with some cryptic message. I would get so upset with you for involving them but would show up anyway and yell at you for a few minutes and you'd just nod and stare at me. Then we'd laugh about it and I always forgave you. I know I say a lot of hurtful things and I get mad and I leave but I'll always forgive you. I can't live without you."

She noticed that she had begun to chatter but was cut off by a slight pressure on her hand. Olivia started down at where their hands were intertwined, praying her mind wasn't playing tricks on her. It felt like hours, though it was closer to fifteen minutes later, but this time she saw his finger gently struggle to grasp hers. Her eyes traveled up to his face, prepared for his eyes to fly open and shine with recognition like in the movies, but his face remained still, though his breathing seemed steadier to her. To anyone else, it would have appeared nothing medically significant had occurred and Fitz was just a brain damaged patient reacting to the distant sound of a voice, but Olivia knew he was aware of her presence, and that he felt the same way.


	3. Bubbly

_The rain is falling on my window pane_

_But we are hiding in a safer place_

_Under covers staying safe and warm_

_You give me feelings that I adore..._

_It starts in my soul_

_And I lose all control_

_When you kiss my nose the feelin' shows_

_'Cause you make me smile_

_Baby just take your time now_

_Holdin' me tight_

_- Collbie Caillat_

"Wait, are you really telling me you used to wear tights?"

"I was Peter Pan! I had to to wear them. The show couldn't go on without me."

Olivia snorted as she tried to sip her wine, causing herself to start choking with laughter. She sat up from her spot on Fitz's chest to catch her breath. The two were laying in the large bed in Liv's cabin at Camp David where the Grant family had graciously invited her to stay for Memorial Day Weekend. Fitz had been planning from the get go to surprise Olivia by showing up at her cabin in the middle of the night with wine and candles and some romantic music so they could truly enjoy their alone time. Their plans had been hindered by the heavy storm that began the second Fitz stepped outside, drenching him on the short walk to her cabin. He had looked so pitiful, holding the bottle of wine up and grinning sheepishly as the rain fell around him, that Olivia could only shake her head disapprovingly and invite him in. That had been over two hours ago, and after drying Fitz off and getting him stripped down to his red, white and blue boxers and the resulting lovemaking, they were curled around each other on the bed, recounting stories from their childhood's. Liv had managed to get Fitz to admit to being in the stage company in high school, which she thought was absolutely hilarious and had been teasing him mercilessly about it since.

Fitz watched, a petulant frown on his face, as Olivia calmed down enough to breathe properly and take a sip from her glass. "Are you done?" uttered.

"Not nearly. You'll be hearing about this for quite some time." She turned her head to eye him. "Besides, I'm sure your butt looked adorable in those tights." Satisfied, she sat back, settling onto her favorite spot on his chest again.

Fitz fought back a smile. He still wanted to be annoyed with Olivia for teasing him, but she always knew exactly what to say to stroke his ego. Plus, it was hard to stay mad at her when she was sitting on his lap wearing nothing but a lacy pair of deep purple boyshorts and his favorite Navy t-shirt, her cheeks flushed from laughing so hard and from her many orgasms not long ago. Her hair was falling from its loose bun and the strands would brush across her face every time her body vibrated with laughter. Her brown eyes were wide and shiny and her smooth thighs kept brushing against his. No, he couldn't stay mad at her, not when they rarely had moments like these - moments where he wasn't the married President of the United States and she wasn't Olivia Pope, his communications director. At that moment, they were just Liv and Fitz, two people in love, joking around and enjoying each other's company.

"Alright then, Ms. Pope. I've revealed my darkest secret to you. Now it's your turn. 'Fess up."

"I hardly have any damning secrets, Mr. President," she purred, feigning innocence while giving his upper thigh a light squeeze.

"Nice try, but your temptress was won't distract me now."

Olivia groaned in defeat. "And that was my only play, too. Alright, but you have to promise not laugh, Fitz."

"Never. Spill it."

"Okay, okay. I was in eleventh grade and I got a little...rebellious. Nothing serious. I stayed in school, obviously, I just decided to change up my look a little. I told my hairdresser I wanted a streak right here," she motioned to the front of her hair, "in lighter brown, almost reddish color. When she was done and I looked in the mirror...it was bright orange." She buried her face in her hands at the memory. "My mom was so upset at me for getting my hair dyed without telling her that she made me keep it for two months. I went to homecoming like that."

Underneath her, Olivia could feel Fitz shaking with the laughter he was half-heartily holding back. After a few seconds of this, he burst into a full fledged guffaw, pushing her off his lap as he doubled over with laughter. Olivia watched, arms folded, until he collected himself.

"You wouldn't happen to have any pictures from these two months, would you?" he hiccuped.

She shook her head. "No fucking chance, Fitzgerald. I snuck into my mother's scrapbook a few Christmases ago and ran the damned things through the shredder."

"So did the kids at school make fun of you when they saw your...makeover?" Fitz bit back another fit of laughter.

"They definitely tried but I practically ran that school. They were all too afraid to really say anything. A few girls even tried copying the look."

Fitz gave her a look of surprise. "Oh no, were you a mean girl? I couldn't picture you as being clique-y."

"Hardly," she scoffed. "I was student body president. Plus I was captain of the debate team, president of the French Honor Society, and helped get our dance team to regionals." She shrugged. "I went to prep school so popularity in the classic sense wasn't really a big thing. Everyone's parents were politicians or diplomats or CEO's. We competed with things like SAT scores."

"Oh yes, prep school. I remember the days."

Olivia giggled. "I bet you had quite a time, with those gorgeous eyes and that adorable head of hair.

He tried to play off her comment but couldn't fight the smirk that spread on his face. "I may have broken a few hearts."

She snorted in response. "Please. If the effect you had on them was anything like the one you have on me, those poor girls were doomed." It took Olivia a moment to realize exactly what she had said, and she looked down at her lap, embarrassed.

Fitz quirked an eyebrow. "And what effect do I have on you?"

Olivia bit her lip nervously. She cared deeply for Fitz, and deep down felt that he was probably the love of her life, but she never was good with her emotions and especially when it came to expressing them to others. Her father had taught her that to reveal one's innermost feelings was to give others the tools to destroy them. She could tell Fitz how she felt, pour her heart out to him, and he could decide later on to be devoted to Mellie. She could become just a fling for him and be thrown to the side like old news. It was too dangerous of a thing to risk because she knew with all of her body and soul that if Fitz ever decided to leave her, she would never be the same. Her heart hurt at the mere thought of it.

She opened her mouth to say something sarcastic to distract him but before she could speak, he took and wine glass and set it on the nightstand with his own and adjusted them on the bed so they were laying side by side, facing each other. He was looking at her with a hopeful look in his gentle grey eyes, ready to hear about her feelings for him. Outside, the rain was beating at the roof and windows and it calmed Olivia. Her mind felt clouded and simultaneously clear as day. She wasn't sure if it was from the practically empty bottle of wine sitting on the table or the lack of oxygen from all the laughing she had been doing or just the nearness of Fitz, but all of her reservations melted away as she began speaking.

"You make me feel like a teenage girl," she admitted, "like I have my whole life to look forward to and I just want to spend it with you. When I'm around you I lose the ability to think clearly. My stomach knots up and my heart starts racing. I get so happy when I see you and when you smile - genuinely smile - it's like my soul lights up. I live to see you happy. And that terrifies me." She had avoided making eye contact with him up until that last line. She feared she would lost the nerve to speak if she did, or that she wouldn't like the look on his face, but he only looked understanding.

"Thank you, Livie," Fitz whispered. "For telling me that."

She only nodded and he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on her temple. As he pulled back, his eyes fell on the clock. "It's getting late."

"I know," she said, disappointment clouding her soft features. "You should be going." But as she said she made her way closer to him and buried her face in his chest. "You should leave."

Fitz carefully undid her bun and buried his face in his soft hair, wrapping her in his strong arms. " I should." Neither moved, but Fitz began to him, a tune she didn't recognize but assumed was made just for her. The heady combination of the firm softness of his skin and the melodic tune lulled her into a deep sleep within minutes, Fitz following soon behind.

* * *

It was the orange glow of morning sunlight falling across their sleeping forms that awakened Olivia. She sat up quickly, throwing the displaced comforter onto the cabin floor and springing from the bed. Fitz groggily lifted his head at the commotion.

"What's wrong, Liv?"

"It's morning. You're not supposed to be here. Why didn't you leave last night?"

He became slightly more awake at her harsh tone, still riding the high from her confession last night. "It's alright, Livie. Look, it's only five. No one else is awake. I'll just slip back to the main house an say I went for a morning walk."

Olivia faltered. He did usually take early morning walks at Camp Davis, so it wouldn't be too suspicious. The realization did nothing to fix the sour look on her face. "Whatever, Fitz. Just hurry."

Fitz chuckled, no longer affected by her mercurial personality. He stretched and accepted the sweatpants Olivia tossed at his head, sliding into them as he stepped out of bed. He was moving towards the door, running his fingers through his flattened curls, when Olivia calling his name caused him to stop abruptly. He turned to see her remove his t-shirt and toss it to him. He groaned at the sight of her standing before him in just her lacy underwear and he took a step towards her, hands outstretched.

"Fitz, please, don't play around. You have to leave now."

He frowned. "Come on, sweet baby." His voice took on the sultry quality he knew drove Olivia crazy and could see her swaying from her decision to put him out as she bit her lip and took half a step towards him. "We can make it quick."

Olivia stepped up to him and turned him towards the door. "You sure do know how to sweet talk a lady, Mr. President," she whispered. Then she gave his butt a squeeze as she pushed him through the door and into the early morning light. "You could still pull off the tights."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait, guys. I had to deal with some health issues but I'm okay now. It definitely won't take this long before the next update, so keep the reviews coming. I love hearing what you guys think and I also appreciate constructive criticism. Until next time :)**


	4. What You Need

_Does he touch you here like this?_

_Let me take the friction from your lips_

_And I'ma love you girl the way you need_

_Ain't no one gon' stop us, ain't no one gon' stop us_

_And I'ma give you girl for what you fiend_

_I'm the drug in your veins, just fight through the pain_

_He's what you want…I'm what you need._

_-The Weeknd_

Fitz had been really truly angry plenty of times in his life. There were the countless times his father had blatantly referred to him as a disappointment to the family, when Amanda Tanner was claiming to carry his child, and the day his lover and his wife had teamed up and made that god-awful agreement and completely disregarded his feelings. He'd dealt with them all somewhat differently, but some things never changed. He always turned to his office and retrieved his favorite tumbler and spent the night drinking, his anger building the drunker he got, until he swung at something large and heavy and passed out clutching his bloody fist.

None of those other times held a candle to the moment he opened the envelope he had received from Tom and those deceitful pictures spilled out onto his desk.

He felt that angry did not really describe the feelings that washed over his body, though it was there. He was furious at himself for driving Olivia away, which was all he had really done while trying to get closer to her; the Secret Service agents tailing her and the constant late night phone calls and the yelling. He had realized long ago that the forcefulness of his actions had long departed from romantically possessive and were bordering on stalker. But overshadowing this anger was something he couldn't describe. It enveloped his heart and squeezed until he was almost gasping for breath. Sorrow, despair perhaps; he wasn't sure he could put a word to it as he shuffled through the images, feeling his chest get tighter and tighter with each photograph he viewed.

Livi, his Livi, had finally broken down and let Edison in. Into her home, into her body, possibly into her heart. Perhaps they would pick up where they left off, engaged and living together and planning for their future as a happy family, and Fitz would only be an afterthought to her. A bittersweet memory she would push to the back of her mind and soon forget…

A tear splashed onto the picture, landing on the soft spot at the small of Olivia's back and just below where Edison's hands were splayed across her arching back. He swept the pictures from his desk into the wastebasket below before he could get too lost in the soft curves of the body of the love of his life, interrupted by the grasp of another man.

_You let her go_, he reminded himself dumbly. _You let her leave and you have to live with it._

He knew however much he hated to admit it that Olivia deserved Edison, no matter how much he didn't deserve her. Fitz wanted her to be happy more than anything else, and she couldn't be happy with Fitz as long as he was married and in office. She deserved the normalcy and the stability that came with having a conventional relationship. And if Edison treated her right and made her happy, that was a good thing. He repeated that to himself unconvincingly.

The truth was, neither of them would be truly happy apart. Fitz knew it and he prayed Olivia knew it as well. He still held a shred of hope that someday, when his stint as President was finally over, he could have her. They could be together in public and he could show up at her apartment with popcorn and cheesy movies and she would invite him in with a smile. That thought was the only things that really kept him going, the idea that she need him as much as he did her and someday they would have a chance to fulfill that need.


	5. She Don't Have to Know

_We got to be careful next time or we're through_

_Damn it's so stressful doing the dirt we do_

_So sad but true_

_And I know one day I'm going to pay..._

_But let's not end this way_

_Wait another day_

_- John Legend_

"Oh...Fitz." Olivia let out a moan as his lips trailed from her ear to the hollow of her neck. Fitz's hands slid around her waist and grabbed her ass in response, pulling them closer together in the already tight storage closet that was currently being used to hold extra campaign posters and office supplies.

It was late and there were only a few workers left in the Denver campaign headquarters. Olivia, of course, worked late every night but that day Fitz had decided to surprise her by showing up and announcing he wanted to revise his speech for the next day with her, then over zealously dragging her into his office. Olivia had truly been prepared for actual speech writing, but the moment the door clicked shut behind them, Fitz had her in a tight embrace, one hand on her waist and the other at the back of her neck, before pushing her against the wall and claiming her mouth with his own. She'd managed to inch them along the wall and into the closet for some more privacy.

Fitz had Olivia's shirt unbuttoned and was trailing kisses in the valley of her breasts as she grabbed the curls at the nape of his neck when they heard the office door open and close. They stilled completely, staring wide-eyed at each other until Mellie's shrill voice called out Fitz's name. Olivia ducked out of Fit'z embrace and crouched behind a poster while Fitz adjusted himself and stepped out to greet his wife.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her coldly.

"Hello to you too, Fitz. I was looking for your at the hotel after dinner but someone told me you'd come back here. I couldn't imagine what you had to do here at this hour so I thought I'd come check on you." Mellie's eyes trailed purposefully to the door of the storage closet.

Fitz eyed her warily, not sure how much she knew or suspected, but aware of how astute Mellie could be. "I wanted to revise my speech and I thought I'd review some points from old ones...which I left in a folder in this closet." He tacked the end on casually, hoping he didn't sound like he was giving her an alibi.

Mellie's eyes lingered on the door before traveling back to her husband. She gave one of her smiles that were reserved for public appearances, one that appeared genuine to the untrained eye but the coldness of which was never lost on Fitz. "Of course, dear. I'll just let you get back to work then. We want you to be prepared and confident tomorrow. Just don't be too late. Wouldn't want you to be too tired in the morning."

Olivia, listening intently while suppressing her outburst, heard a pause before the sound of the office door opening and closing quietly. She let go of the breath she hadn't even known she'd been holding but didn't move until the closet door opened and Fitz called out her name. She launched herself from her hiding place, past him, buttoning her shirt as she unleashed her anger on him. She let go of a breath she hadn't even known she had been holding but did not move until the closet door opened and Fitz softly called her name. She launched herself from her hiding place and past him into the office, buttoning her shirt as she unleashed her anger towards him.

"…I mean how could you be so reckless? These are the types of things I'm talking about. These stunts you pull because you think we're in private," she whispered harshly, masterfully avoiding Fitz's hands as he reached for her.

"I didn't really hear you complaining," he replied, smirking as he stepped closer to her.

Olivia ignored his sly remark but Fitz saw her pause ever so slightly as she let the comment sink in. "That was your _wife_, Fitz. She thinks I'm her friend and your employee and here I am panting over you in a closet with her just feet away. Don't you see anything wrong with that?"

While she had been fuming she had forgotten to avoid his grasp and he pulled her in for an embrace more tender than before. "No. I don't love her. I love you."

Olivia tilted her head up to look him in the eye. "I know, Fitz, but that doesn't change the fact that you married her. It isn't fair to her to have to be constantly looking for you when you're with me. Couldn't you at least be more considerate?"

"I could try."

"Let me put it this way, Governor Grant. If you _don't _become more discreet, you can take care of yourself when you can't fall asleep at night." To make her point, Liv tilted her hips towards him and subtly moved and against him. "Got it?"

He groaned and squeezed her more tightly. "God, Liv. Yes. I got it. I will be the model of discretion. So can I get my reward now?" He lowered his face to kiss her but she turned her head to the side and his lips grazed her cheek.

"I think you could use a night alone to let the point sink in," she said mockingly. "Besides, your wife is waiting for you." Ignoring the frustration on Fitz's face, Olivia spun out of his grasp and sashayed out of the office.

* * *

After Olivia had gone, Fitz took a few personal moments to adjust himself before deciding he actually would take a few moments to revise his speech after all. When he could think of nothing else to change, he rehearsed it out loud four times, and then spent fifteen minutes mentally going through his wardrobe to select what tie he would wear. He was exhausted at that point and wanted nothing more than to take a cold shower and go straight to bed, but he knew his dear old wife would be waiting up to have a word with him. Just before two in the morning. He resigned himself to accept his fate and made the block and a half journey back to the hotel.

Just as he expected, Mellie was awake, sitting in a chair under the window, pretending to read what appeared to be the Bible from the hotel nightstand. As soon as he stepped into the room she made a big show of saving her page and gently setting the book on the arm of the chair before lifting her head to look at him with cold, calculating eyes. Even at two a.m., Mellie looked professional and poised with not a hair out of place. Unlike Olivia, who would melt under his touch and for a few moments allow her hair to get messed up and her clothes wrinkled, Mellie never softened.

"That took a while," she observed with a forced air of casualty.

Fitz, keeping Olivia's words in mind and too tired to pick a fight, only replied with a halfhearted "sorry" as he removed his shoes and tie on the way to the en-suite.

Mellie looked a bit taken aback at his lack of response but quickly composed herself, clearly on a mission. "It's funny, but on the way out I decided to stop and say hi to Olivia." Here she paused to gauge his reaction. He had turned away from her but she saw his shoulders stiffen for a second. "I asked one of the staffers if they had seen her and they told me that she was in your office." She stopped here, not bothering to ask the obvious, simply waiting for Fitz to come up with an answer.

He turned to her, his shirt halfway unbuttoned. "I guess they were mistaken. Olivia left a few minutes after I arrived."

Mellie pursed her lips at him, then gave a tight smile. "Alright then. Just remember, Fitz, you're running for President. Don't get sloppy because these staffers will tell on you to a tabloid in a heartbeat. Good night." She rose from the chair and made her way over to the bed, turning down the comforter. "Oh, I may have used all of the hot water, but that shouldn't be a problem, right?"

* * *

**A/N: The wait to Jan. 10 is killing me! These little stories are my way of passing the time :) I just hope we'll get some Olitz (present day) happy time soon this season. Thanks for reading, and as always, don't forget to tell me what you think.**

**twitter: anjelica_jasmin**

**tumblr: jelzz**


	6. Cosmic Love

**A/N: The dialogue I use in this chapter is taken directly from the show so I'd like to clarify that I'm not claiming it as my own, simply using it to structure my own words. I do not own Scandal or its characters. I also don't own Kingdom Hearts because I do make an obscure reference to that. Ten points if you can find it. With that said, enjoy the update. And don't forget to review! Your feedback means a lot.**

* * *

_The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out_

_You left me in the dark_

_No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight_

_In the shadow of your heart._

_And in the dark I can hear your heartbeat_

_I tried to find the sound_

_But then it stopped and I was in the darkness_

_So darkness I became._

_- Florence + The Machine_

Olivia had learned how to play poker at a young age. She vividly remembered being nose high to the card table and hoisting herself onto a stack of phone books in the chair to spend hours taking instructions from her father - the ins and outs of the game. He would guide her little hands when it was her turn to shuffle and wait patiently while she counted out all of her chips, but the most important thing, he would say, was an impenetrable poker face. Olivia would later spend many afternoons watching herself in the bathroom mirror while she pinched her arm, schooling her features to remain calm. At some point in her adolescence the expression evolved into a lifestyle as she shut herself off from the world, and later it became her career. Though she ultimately had not become a lawyer in the literal sense her business thrived as a result of her ability to simultaneously remain completely aloof and utterly sure of her impending victory. It was not until she met Fitz that she even considered allowing the facade to yield to a genuine aura of tenderness.

When she had walked in and she sat across from him in the desolate restaurant, she immediately steeled herself for the ultimate game of poker. She had gone all in two years before and lost everything: her heart, her sanity, her morals. She had had every intention of leaving him with her life reassembled. She had not expected it to be so easy.

"_Fine. We're done._"

His words were soft as flower petals but that did not stop the thorns from digging deep into her chest. Fitz must have felt the crippling pain every time she threatened to leave him - she couldn't imagine how he had felt when he had turned around one night and she was already gone. He paused and the weight of his silence tugged at her heart and filled the pit of her stomach. Fitz was waiting for her to protest, to admit that she did not want him to leave. A quiver of a lip would be all it took to sway him and she pulled hers in between her teeth to still it. Much to her surprise, Olivia could feel her visage shifting. She fought the urge to soften her eyes and part her lips and whisper his name like the prayer she said every night before bed.

"_I'm letting you go._"

She tried to look past his broken expression and pretend she was anywhere else; in her living room eating popcorn and watching Days of Our Lives, at the office reviewing files with Harrison, in the shoe department at Neiman's, on a beach in New England reading a worn paperback in the fading light, on the floor of a warm cabin at Camp David reveling in the sensation the sheepskin rug grazing her sensitive skin, at yet another hotel in some eerily familiar town untangling her legs from crisp white sheets and sighing in completion, on the Resolute desk bowing her back underneath his forceful thrusts, in his arms trailing her fingers through the hair on his chest as he hoarsely called her name.

"_That's what you want, right?_"

She surreptitiously dug her manicured nails into her palm, resisting the compulsion to climb onto the table and grab his lapels and shake him until the force knocked loose whatever the hell was making him lie so blatantly. This was not the way they worked, it was not their dynamic. He should not have been giving her up so readily. Olivia could not help but feel that her neglect and disengagement had finally driven him away, that her last push was truly going to be the one to redirect him to his wife and kids and responsibilities as a leader, to people who needed him. Olivia turned her head and smiled bitterly at the floor. She didn't _need_ him.

"_I have to be responsible. Right?_"

Despite the distraction she was attempting to create for herself she was vaguely aware that he had been talking through her reverie but felt it best not to inquire as to the details. Something about Lavich, Edison, his family, his constituents; she did not need to hear the details to understand what he was saying. She could hear the defeat in his voice. He had given up. She simply nodded pathetically and echoed his sentiments, her gaze locked onto the wall opposite them.

The ringing in her ears just barely dimmed the scrape of Fitz's chair as he rose from the table. He dominated the space like he was born to do so and it made her feel smaller in his presence than she had ever felt before. Her eyes, clouded by the tears she had successfully kept at bay up to that point, avoided following his winding journey through the dining tables. This did not stop her from noticing that, for the first time since he had abruptly fired and rehired her in that campaign office so long ago - a far off memory that now felt like a scattered dream - he did not pause and turn to look at her on his way out.

Olivia's eyes followed each Secret Service Agent across the room before she allowed herself to fall apart. The sob that she had been wrestling with all night tore its way up through her windpipe, choking her. Her right hand danced in the air for a brief moment before she brought it to cup her mouth and her shoulders violently shook with the force of her break down. A whimper escaped through her fingers and she struggled to draw in each breath with the lump in her throat. Finally she surrendered to the overpowering will of her body and heart and let her shoulders crumple onto the table below her.

* * *

Days later, as she unceremoniously dragged Edison into her apartment, she could still hear Fitz's blasé tone as he told her he was done pursuing her. As she forcefully pulled him along, lips locked onto his, she could still feel the chill of Fitz's grey eyes as they hardened at her. When she quickly undressed, not giving him a moment to speak, and mounted onto her large bed, she had every intention of using Edison as her cleanser. He was everything that Fitz was not and she knew it would be easy to take control of the situation. Fitz had never let her be the one to set the pace of their lovemaking, a trait that simultaneously irked her and turned her on like nothing else. As she guided Edison down onto the bed with her and tugged his clothes out of place she was exceedingly aware of the bond she was preparing to break - since she had met Fitz she had not had sex with anyone but him. As she flung her leg over Edison's waist and dropped herself onto him she reveled in the power she had over him and the feelings she was deliberately pushing further to the back of her thoughts with each twist of her hips. And as she let herself fall onto the bed, beads of sweat and tears mingling on her face, she was already prepared for what Edison said when the shock wore off and he was able to speak coherently.

"Did you just say Fitz?"


	7. Quel qu'un m'a dit

_On me dit que nos vies ne valent grand chose_

_Elles passent en un instant comme fanent les roses..._

_On me dit que le destin se moque bien de nous_

_Qu'il ne nous donne rien et qu'il nous promet tout_

_Parait que le bonheur est a portée de main_

_Alors on tend la main et on se retrouve fou_

_Pourtant quel qu'un m'a dit que tu m'aimais encore_

_C'est quel qu'un qui m'a dit que tu m'aimais encore_

_Serait-ce possible alors?_

_- Carla Bruni-Sarkozy_

Whenever Olivia completed a very trying case she rewarded herself and her team by giving them a real weekend off. It had been a long time since any of them had had a real break and with Abby out on maternity leave they all had to put in extra work to make up for her absence. The case they had just finished had been messy and sometime along the way Olivia had lost count of the of the number of laws she had "bent" to keep her client from being extradited. She let out a loud sigh as she gracelessly settled onto the couch and slipped out of her nude Cole Haan pumps that noisily clattered onto the floor as she began massaging her stocking clad feet. When it became apparent that the ache in her arches would not be so easily relieved she tucked her legs beside her and reached for the remote, clicking on the television.

The large screen lit up, displaying a crystal clear shot of the President stepping out of his helicopter on the South lawn and waving to the cameras. The anchor could be heard talking off screen about the President's return from a peace conference in the Middle East that many felt had not been very effective. Felton had been in office for a year and had not gotten much done but everyone from all sides of the political spectrum agreed that he was a much better choice than Sally Langston; even a number of Republicans did not support her old-fashioned, conservative beliefs.

As Olivia watched, absentmindedly toying with a loose thread on her pants, the screen faded to show the news anchors who began to heatedly debate the President's performance. Liv nodded in agreement when one said that the new POTUS was simply too much of a pushover. - despite being a Democrat he had yet to keep any of his promises regarding lowering taxes for the lower and middle class families or marriage equality in the remaining states because he was hesitant to upset the GOP. The other remarked that President Grant had also been a bit of a pushover to the Democratic agenda in passing the Dream Act among other reforms, but had still managed to accomplish a number of positive changes during his term without ostracizing himself from one party to align with the other. The two then switched gears and launched into trying to answer the question that had plagued the country for the last year and a half - why hadn't President Grant run for reelection?

At the mention of his name a recent shot of him flashed onto the screen, evoking a twinge of regret in Olivia. The picture showed Fitz sitting in a small plastic chair, his guitar poised to play in his lap as he smiled at the group of children in hospital gowns surrounding him. He was wearing jeans and had the sleeves of his maroon shirt rolled up to his flexed biceps. The smile he wore was infectious and Olivia felt the corners of her lips tilt upwards at the sight of it, as well as a pool of desire form in her belly. She hadn't seen him in person since having helped him regain the seat as President after his shooting but the sight of him looking so casual and carefree reminded her of the better days they'd had, though it pained her to know they might never have them again.

_At least he looks happy_, she thought, watching as the picture onscreen was replaced by one of him having lunch with a very grown up looking Karen. _At least one of us is happy_.

Olivia mentally slapped herself, remembering having resolved to put an end to the self-pity parties she had often indulged in after their last separation. They did nothing to alleviate her stress or put a smile on her face. She quickly snatched up the remote from where it had fallen by her feet and and changed to the cooking channel, hoping to distract herself. Half an hour later, having though of nothing but Fitz and his heartwarming smile and the swell of his forearms an the curl of his hair, she turned her television off with a huff and retired to her bedroom, confident that even sleep could not erase him from her thoughts.

* * *

_"Do you know what you do to me?" Fitz's voice was barely a whisper, his breath hot on her neck as he ghosted his fingers across her pelvic bone._

_Olivia let out a soft moan, turning her head to touch her lips to the hollow beneath his ear. She brought her arms around his back, pulling him deeper, trying to feel his heartbeat against her chest, to fuse them together. She finally had him, she did not plan on letting him go._

_"Do you know what you do to me?" he repeated, all the sensuality gone from his voice without warning, replaced by a tone of anguish. Olivia felt a tear spill from his eye onto her shoulder, branding her skin like acid, and she hissed in pain._

_"It hurts, Fitz," she cried, and though he sped up his thrusts she felt no pleasure._

_"What you did, Livi, that hurt." He dug his nails into her hips, causing her to cry out again. His hands felt harsh and calloused against her sensitive ski, noting like the delicate touches she recalled. "You don't know pain, sweet baby."_

_As his nails tore into her she willed herself to fight, to pull away, but found her body frozen underneath him. His weight was suddenly suffocating. She whimpered, begging him to stop but unable to form words. As if hearing her silent pleas Fitz lifted his torso look her in the eyes. Olivia gasped in horror at the sight of him - his normally passionate pools of grey were a dull charcoal and held no recognition of her whatsoever._

Olivia was jolted from her slumber by the sound of her own shrieking. She sat up in her large bed, wiping the sweat plastered hair from her forehead, and shot her hand out to turn on the bedside lamp. Instead, her knuckles made contact with her alarm clock, knocking it to the floor with a loud thump. She swore loudly and cradled the injured hand in the other, clutching them both to her stomach and doubling over them. She knew that she would only continue to hurt herself unless she calmed down and proceeded to count backwards from ten, breathing deeply through her nose. When Olivia reached for the lamp again she found the string effortlessly and gave it a light tug, casting a dim glow across the room that made her shadow dance on the wall.

To say she had not dreamt of Fitz since their last encounter was a lie. Once he had haunted her dreams every night for three weeks, and while the dreams always made her feel some kind of way - they ranged from pleasant to depressing to unbearably sexy - never before had dream Fitz terrified her in such a way.

She thought back to the last time they had been together. After he had been shot she'd been devastated and when his eyes had finally opened, her name on his lips, she had easily been the happiest woman alive. On his last day in the hospital he had leaned over her so their foreheads touched and asked her to stay. So after handing the reins of OPA over to Harrison she had taken back her position as his fixer and campaign manager. She had been the driving force behind his reinstatement as President and promptly resumed her position as his Director of Communications. Their relationship picked back up where it had left off before she'd left the White House the first time. Everything had been going very smoothly until one night, as he had tiptoed through the residence, clutching her heels to her chest and feeling inexplicable cheap, she had inadvertently seen Mellie sitting on a couch in the nursery, crying into a balled up blue onsie. Olivia knew that the stress behind Fitz's shooting, and possibly even her own return into their lives, had been the reason Mellie had lost the baby. Liv had allowed the guilt to consume her until m for the second time, she had stolen away from the White House in the dead of the night. After that time, she had never looked back.

Following her abrupt departure she had returned home to Alexandria, spending time with her family and watching her sister's kids while simultaneously avoiding calls from everyone but Harrison. Finally, the phone had stopped ringing.

She knew that she had hurt Fitz and that he blamed her for everything that transpired between the two of them but she couldn't understand why he didn't see that she had been suffering when they were together. They had both always thought that once Fitz's presidency was over he would immediately divorce Mellie and Olivia could live happily ever after with him but she wasn't sure she would ever get over the fact that she had broken up a family or rigged an election for him. Every morning she would wake up and lying beside her would be a reminder of everything she had ever done wrong. After a while she had resigned herself to the fact that she and Fitz could never be happy together - no relationship that started like theirs had a chance in hell of lasting in the real world.

Olivia sighed heavily, running her fingers through her sweat dampened hair. Thinking about her and Fitz and what could have been was useless and she would not spend her time off from work crying in bed. She pulled her shoulders back and lifted her chin, a gesture that was lost in the dark solitude of her bedroom but which made her feel that everything might be bearable in the morning. She fell back onto her stack of pillows and rolled over, slowly falling into a restless slumber.

* * *

The next day, as she slipped out of her car and into the brisk fall weather, Olivia couldn't help but feel self conscious about how she looked. Her sleep had been fitful and she felt as if she'd had none at all. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun with an overflow of curls springing loose because she hadn't the energy to straighten it and she had forgone her usual make-up, opting instead to don a pair of large white sunglasses to hide the redness of her eyes. She prayed no one recognized her as she drew her trench coat tightly around her, concealing the plain t-shirt and cardigan she had worn. She just wanted a calm day of shopping by herself, something she rarely got to do.

She was met with a burst of warm air and the overzealous smile of a saleslady as she stepped into the department store. Olivia masterfully avoided the bombardment of offers to try a new scent and made her way to the shoe department. She let out a sigh of relief, fingering a cream colored pump and circling a display of boots.

"Liv? Hey, Liv, is that you?"

Olivia stifled a groan and turned, searching for the person who had so loudly interrupted her. From across the shoe section she spotted a girl weighed down with brown paper bags bounding towards her excitedly. As the girl approached, dropping her shopping bags onto a chair, Olivia recognized her to be Karen who swept her into a tight hug.

"Oh, Liv, it is you! I haven't seen you in forever."

Olivia chuckled, returning the girl's hug. "Hi, Karen. Yeah it has been a while. Are you here with your parents?"

Karen scoffed and pulled back from the embrace. "I'm nineteen. I don't need my parents to take me shopping. Besides, the two of them haven't been in the same room since the divorce was finalized."

Olivia tried to keep her expression calm but Karen, having always been rather observant, caught the sharp intake of breath and quirked an eyebrow. "You mean you didn't know? Yeah, Mom put up a pretty big fight at first but in the end she cam to terms with it. That's why it took them so long. It was all pretty discreet but I was sure Dad would have told you before anyone."

"What would make you think that? I haven't worked for Fi- your father in years."

"Olivia, I love you like a big sister but please don't patronize me. I've always known you and my dad are more than just coworkers, it just took me a while to figure out how much more."

"Karen," Olivia began slowly, "let me explain."

"You don't have to explain, Liv. My parents weren't in love. They weren't happy. You make Dad happy and as much as I want to be mad at you sometimes I know their shitty relationship was over long before you came along. I'm glad you and Dad found each other. I just can't for the life of me figure out why you two aren't together." Karen paused, and when she was met with silence, calmly said, "Now you can explain."

An awkward beat followed Karen's request and Olivia furrowed her brow. While she felt she owed the young girl some kind of explanation - they had been close and Olivia never forgot that in leaving Fitz she had left Karen as well - she did not want to admit her deepest feelings to this girl. As grown up as Karen carried herself she was still young and probably would not understand a lot about the reasons behind Olivia's decision. Instead of offering a reply, Olivia tried to distract her.

"How about we get some coffee and catch up?"

"Only if you're paying and don't even think you're getting away with not answering me."

* * *

The two ladies sat across from each other in the dimly lit cafe, hands wrapped around steaming cups. Olivia shifted her sunglasses to rest on top of her head and took a sip of her drink, ignoring when it burned her tongue.

"So how's college life treating you?"

"Partying, studying, avoiding my detail. The usual." Karen waved her hand absently to emphasize how trifling the matter was before leaning forward. "Not nearly as interesting as what you're about to tell me."

Olivia looked to the ceiling and blew upwards in frustration. The girl had always been persistent, and coming from an affluent family who indulged her had not helped. "Look, things between your father and me just didn't work out. That's all there is to it."

"But _why_? If you two were so in love you would risk a presidency and ruin a family, why would you decide now, when you can finally be together, that you can't work things out?" There was no bitterness in Karen's tone, just the whiny desperation of a child who couldn't get what she wanted.

Olivia chewed her lip nervously, thinking of a way to explain it gently. "Sometimes, Kare, you want something so badly that you'll do anything to have it, but by the time it's yours, the wear and tear from the battle are too much to repair. It's not the same as it was in the beginning. You dad and I aren't the same people we were all those years ago and our relationship couldn't handle the change on top of the external challenges it was dealing with."

A tear fell from Karen's eye and she angrily swiped at it, her face becoming red. "But if you love someone you should want to work thing out. You haven't even tried."

Liv reached out a hand and touched Karen's where it rested on the table. "Love isn't always enough."

"Don't you think I know that Olivia? My parents loved each other once. They never spoke to each other unless it had to do with Jerry and me or politics and eventually they forgot they were in a relationship." Karen looked Olivia dead in the eyes, a steely resolve sharpening them, likening her to her father. "He still loves you. He hurts over what happened - I've seen him cry - but he keeps this hope that someday you'll call and it's killing him inside. He's got this picture of the two of you from the campaign trail and he just stares at it sometimes." She stood, ignoring her untouched cup of coffee, and gathered her shopping bags. "I know you still care about him, Liv, and I just want you both to be happy." With that she turned on her heel and stomped out of the door, leaving Olivia frozen in her seat.

Karen's outburst had stirred something in Olivia, but mainly it was the knowledge that Fitz still thought about her without becoming furious that twisted her stomach into knots. That he thought about her at all caused her to shiver with excitement. Of course he was probably still upset with her, and there was no way she could simply stroll back into his life after having abandoned him a second time and having let years pass with no contact. But the thought that there was even a chance for them to reconcile made her giddy, and the rush of caffeine she felt from downing the rest of her coffee did nothing to help. Her first reaction was to call him but there was no way to guarantee he still had the same phone number; besides that, she would feel odd having such an important conversation over the phone. She knew from quick conversations with Cyrus that he frequently stayed at his new house in Foxhall and before she had time to think about it, Olivia was racing through the parking garage to her car and stumbling into-ti the driver's seat, not even bothering with her seat belt before speeding towards the upscale community.

The closet her car got her destination, the closer she was to seeing Fitz, the harder reality began to set in. By the time she reached the wooded outskirts of the neighborhood she could hardly breathe through the knot in her chest and the edges of her vision were beginning to blur. She barely saw the ball that rolled into the street but the shock of it hitting her wheel sent her foot slamming onto the brake. Her head hit the steering wheel with a thud but she recovered quickly, searching for the child who should have come rounding the hill to reclaim the ball but none came. The road was deserted.

Olivia gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white, trying to ignore the pain spreading in her brow. Indignant tears dropped into her lap as she silently berated herself. Again and again she had gotten hurt chasing Fitz, and she'd hurt him, and countless other people, and yet they continued with the same elaborate number, picking each other up with sweet words and phenomenal sex only to be hurt again. Here she was, about to kill herself rushing to be near him on the word of an emotional teenage girl. She hadn't called Fitz in years, but he hadn't called her either and even if he still couldn't sleep at night, fraught with thoughts of her, it didn't necessarily mean he wanted her in his life again. And Olivia wasn't sure, past the unreliably primal instinct telling her to bed for his forgiveness, that she wanted to be a part of his.

Lost in though, she didn't notice the group of teenage boys that jogged over the hill, apparently in search of their lost ball. One of them tapped on her window and she was jolted out of her reverie, pressing the button to lower the glass partition. She turned towards he boy, her eyes glassy and unfocused.

"Hey, we're really sorry lady," he apologized, his eyes flitting rapidly from her chest to her face. "Do you want me to call an ambulance?"

Olivia faltered, her tongue feeling dry and too large for her mouth, and managed to force out a pathetic "no."

"Are you sure? Your nose is bleeding pretty bad and I think you might have a concussion."

Shocked at this revelation, Olivia lifted a stiff hand to touch her upper lip, feeling the sticky warm liquid and pulling her hand back to inspect it. "Uh, no. I mean, I'm fine. You just...be more careful."

The boy nodded, not at all convinced but evidently impatient to return to his friends. "Alright then." He hesitated by her side for another moment before sprinting around the car and disappearing over the hill.

Olivia leaned over the console and snatched a wad of tissue from the glove compartment before squeezing it around her nose. No, she decided, it was not the right time to go see Fitz. She would go home and clean up, try to take a nap. Give herself time to think once the haze of her newly obtained knowledge about him wore off. Perhaps then she would try to talk to him.

Behind her a car honked; a long, drawn out reminder that there was a here and now that needed tending. She peeked into the rearview mirror to see the line of cars filled with disgruntled drivers that had formed. She adjusted herself in the seat and pulled her seatbelt securely around her, beginning to really feel the dizzying effects of her head injury, and made a U-turn, heading towards home.

* * *

**A/N: This is the last chapter, everyone. I'm actually a lot more sad about this ending than I was expecting to be. It was a short collection of little stories that somehow managed to take over my life. I hope that you all enjoyed reading them as much as I did writing them. _If _I do start another story (I'm thinking something plot driven and more long term) it probably won't be for a while but I won't be disappearing altogether so feel free to reach out to me on here, on twitter ( anjelica_jasmin) or tumblr (jelzz). And don't forget to leave one last review :) **


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